


Need

by ullfloattoo



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me by Your Name - André Aciman
Genre: Golfing, M/M, Pining, but no actual kidnapping, elio being weird elio, jealous elio, just read it, kidnapping mention, kinda sad, monologues, needy elio
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-08
Updated: 2017-08-08
Packaged: 2018-12-13 00:47:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11748630
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ullfloattoo/pseuds/ullfloattoo
Summary: Elio envied just about everything and anyone when it came down to Oliver.





	Need

**Author's Note:**

> i finished the book yesterday and needed something to occupy my brain with instead of crying, so i conjured up this.

 

He was jealous of the grass that got to caress his ankle, the sun rays greedily holding his skin, Elio envied the club in his palm, that he gripped so tightly. Oh, Elio envied that the most, the driver Oliver held onto for dear life, that caused his knuckles to change an icy white from the tan the sun made him. Elio wished that Oliver was gripping onto the side of his hip, pulling him closer, or holding on as he thrusted into him. Maybe he’d allow Oliver to replace the metal with his throat. He didn't care. Look at me, Elio silently begged. Just look at me.

 

His parents, Oliver, Elio and a few of his close relatives and friends ventured out far out of the city to visit a country club. They had gone off in pairs or groups of threes and all the wind knocked out of his lungs when Oliver had suggested casually that they’d pair up. He knew not to get his hopes up, because the only comments they had made to one another were about how horrible they both were at the game. Elio had been surprised at the American’s rustiness.

 

“I’m so thirsty,” Oliver said. He cracked his neck, too lazy to follow the ball, and laid down on the grass basking himself in that godawful sun. “I wish I was in heaven.”

 

Elio had been searching aimlessly for something to give Oliver to drink. Everywhere you touch is heaven, Oliver. He had thought. Still, he found nothing and continued to swing his club around as if he was still playing. He thought about how alone they were. Out of everyone's view. He didnt want to leave behind Oliver for anyone else to gaze at, but he continued down the course without another word, Oliver 400 yards behind him.

 

Suddenly a hand was on his lower back. Elio’s whole body began to hold a low buzz when he realised it had belonged to his everything, “Did I scare you?”

 

“No,” It came out like a whisper.

 

Elio bent down to fix his tee, as the white golf ball wouldn't stay on. More and more frustrated that it didn't stand straight, Elio dropped on all fours to stick it into the ground again. Oliver took off his sunglasses and stared at him, judging.

 

“That’s cute.” Elio almost blacked out. He met Oliver’s eyes hopeful, but, the look on his face said otherwise, a scowl, “You look like a toddler.”

 

His heart plummeted. Should he continue? Just to amuse Oliver but risk suspicion? Or should he stand up, and lose Oliver's attention all together.

 

He went for the latter.

 

They continued to just walk around the course, the two of them. occasionally running into a few strangers, the course so large it was uncommon. Everyone was drawn to the foreigner, Elio grit his teeth and wanted to throw a fit. He was sick of playing the tug of war game with other suitors. Frustrated, he dug his fingernails into his palms, oh, Elio could show Oliver how childish he could really be. Elio was the one who dreamt of him every night, Elio thought of Oliver as a complete God, having control over his entire life, body and soul. Elio was going to kidnap him if another man stopped to talk about Rimbaud, or if he mistook a lady's glance for a longing stare. Elio would take him far away. Germany, maybe, where Oliver would be forced to stay longer than those six weeks. Six. A devils number. They were cursed from the start.

 

They, along with the rest of the family had gotten so tired. They slept soundly on the train ride home. They, but not Elio. Elio watched Oliver in front of him, chest going up and down, up and down. Elio wanted to match their breaths, but his heart was beating too fast. He wanted to rest his head on Oliver’s lap and smell the scent he would vow to never forget. He wanted to remove his sunglasses and stare at his unwrinkled eyelids, count his lashes. He wanted to take the golf club that rested in his palm minutes ago and work it into his hole while Oliver watched. Elio wanted to be good for him. He wanted, he wanted, he wanted.

 

He needed, rather. Elio was insatiable however, for once he got what he wished, he couldn't get enough.

 

He started to tear up just looking at his sleeping wonder. So unaware of how beautiful he was, head slightly tilted. You are my world, he chanted. My reason, my truth. Crush me, ruin me for anyone else before you've realized, you already had from the start.

 

Nobody will mean anything to me any longer except you. He thought about kidnapping Oliver before, yes, but he knew all along Oliver was his captor. And Elio was greatful to be his captive.

**Author's Note:**

> kudos n comments feed me


End file.
